Blair makes a mistake
by Basscop69
Summary: Contains Blair/Dan friendship - but only friendship! - and jealous Chuck. Based around Blair's efforts to join the Tisch kids. What if she misinterpreted their intentions?
1. Chapter 1

**So, I don't know if you read my last story (Thanksgiving: Third Time Lucky?) but this takes place not long after that. It's also the reason for the random Blair/Dan scene at the end of Thanksgiving - I wanted to lay the basis for this story.**

**I love Chair too much to ever be a Dair fan, but I do think that their interaction is hilarious, and I would love to see Dan help her. Also, I love jealous Chuck, and I really think that he deserves a taste of his own medicine after Blair had to deal with Vuck in 2x07 (Chuck In Real Life).**

**Please read and review!**

"Humphrey."

Dan glanced up, and did a double take to see Blair standing at his bedroom door.

"Uh, Blair." He raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

She sighed, walking into the room uninvited.

"Actually, let's look at it this way. I'm helping you."

He stared at her. He already didn't like the sound of this.

She rolled her eyes. "The Tisch ball?"

"Oh. That." He vaguely remembered getting an invite; it was somewhere on his desk under all his papers. "What about it?"

He was getting more and more apprehensive. Not another Blair Waldorf scheme.

She sighed in frustration. He wasn't exactly making this easy for her. Now she would have to spell it out for him.

"We're supposed to bring a date. Tisch members only."

Blair had done well enough in getting the invite - that in itself was a feat. Tribute to the play last week...and her introduction of Lady Gaga.

But the date was proving an issue. Because so far, the only other person she knew invited was Humphrey. That should change after she got to the ball, of course, but it was getting there that was the problem.

Dan had a nasty feeling he knew where she was going with this. He remained silent, though.

Blair scowled. "Well, I figured since the only people you might have been able to go with," - Vanessa and Olivia - "Have skipped town..." Dan winced. He could do without the reminder. "You need a date."

She continued to gaze at him brightly.

He couldn't skirt around it any more. "You want to go with me."

Oh, Jesus. What was he getting himself into?

She pulled a face. "I believe you just begged me to be your date," she corrected smoothly. "And, after some consideration, I accept." She smiled graciously. "Lucky Humphrey. So, you'll pick me up at seven tomorrow night. We have to be early." Before she left, she gave his outfit a sweeping glance, and her nose wrinkled. "And no flannel, Brooklyn."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'll be wearing a blue dress. Not quite navy, but darker than indigo."

She got another blank look to that.

God, she missed Chuck. Why, oh why, couldn't they just bring non-Tisch members to the ball?

"For your tux?" she spelled it out for him. "Don't be late."

With that, she swept out of the room.

Dan just stared after her.

"She wants to me to wear a matching tux?" he said to himself, beyond comprehension.

* * *

"You're going to a ball with Humphrey?" Chuck repeated in incredulity. He couldn't help it; he snorted.

Blair could hear his amusement down the phone line.

"Ha ha," she said sourly. "Shut up, Bass."

He controlled his voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll have a great time. Have you got a flannel dress?"

"Hanging up!"

She could hear him, still chuckling to himself, as she deliberately ended the call.

Her boyfriend really was a pain in the ass sometimes. What happened to moral support? In fact, she was about to ring him back to tell him just that, when he rang her instead.

"I'm sorry." His voice was smooth now. But she knew him far too well.

"You're smarmy. There's a difference, remember?"

He grinned.

"Ok," he conceded, "I know it will be worth it when you conquer yet another section of NYU."

"Exactly."

"Can I treat you to dinner tonight, then, to make up for it?"

"Ede?" she asked hopefully.

"I'll book a table for eight."

She grinned. "Love you."

His voice softened. "I love you too."

But before the call finished, Blair asked suddenly, quietly, "Chuck?"

"Blair?"

"Promise me you'll never, ever wear flannel?"

* * *

Serena and Nate didn't attempt to hide their laughter.

"You agreed to go to a ball with Blair?" Nate repeated.

"It's not like I actually had a choice," Dan groaned.

"No, that's true." Serena was still grinning. She tried to reassure him. "Come on, Dan, you love Blair really." She nudged him playfully. "She's not that bad."

He just shook his head. "I don't even want to _go_ to some Tisch ball."

At that, Nate frowned. "But won't it be good for your writing? I mean, they're all kids of directing moguls. And you got in because of the script you wrote, didn't you?"

"I guess," he sighed. Sipped his coffee miserably. "She was saying something about matching tuxes."

Serena's eyes widened. "Dan. You _have_ to make sure your bowtie matches her dress."

"Yeah, you do." Nate nodded in agreement.

They were serious, Dan realised.

He looked at them in horror. "But why?"

Serena and Nate exchanged a glance.

"Because it's Blair!"


	2. Chapter 2

Actually, Blair was having a good time at the ball.

Humphrey had managed to make himself presentable, and wasn't doing anything too weird.

More importantly, though, Blair was making good progress with the leader. Paul Hoffman.

In fact, she now had his full attention. She smirked to herself.

Whoever said Tisch kids were hard to crack?

* * *

"Well, Dan, that's a really intriguing idea."

Paul was looking at Humphrey with genuine interest.

In all honesty, Blair hadn't actually been following Humphrey's story in great detail. Something about post-modern, some tortured artsy work.

But she'd seen the spark in Paul's eye, seen how he'd caught on to it.

Brilliant.

"I'd be very eager to meet with you, actually, to go over it. I could do with some inspiration for my next play."

Blair's eyes lit up. This was too great an opportunity to miss.

"Dan would love to come!" she interrupted for him.

Dan stared at her.

She smiled brightly. "Wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," Dan admitted eventually. The idea of his script getting picked up was too good to miss.

Blair smirked.

"We could meet over coffee?" she asked innocently. She wasn't being too obvious, of course, about the fact that she'd just invited herself along. She managed a sweet smile in Dan's direction. "I would _love_ to hear more of your ideas too."

Paul Hoffman was looking at her again, nodding. "Great. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's great." She glanced at Dan. He just shook his head; giving up. Her grin widened.

There.

She'd managed to a secure a private meeting with the leader himself. Well, ok, technically Dan had. But Paul seemed to want her there too, if his smile was anything to go by.

And Blair never misinterpreted people, especially when it came to interest in her. A lifetime of being the unwanted one had taught her to pick up immediately when she wasn't. Not that she'd ever let being unwanted stop her before; but this did make things easier.

Powerful ally number one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Paul Hoffman is mentioned in 3x10; he's meant to be the Tisch kid 'leader'.**

**I'm taking liberties with his character though, obviously. I once read someone's comment on the fact that it's weird how no one seems to actually fancy Blair apart from Chuck, and I realised it's quite true! **

**Also, I'm not actually sure how to spell 'Tisch', so I'm really sorry if it's spelt wrong throughout my story...please say if it is!**

"Humphrey."

Chuck concealed his surprise as he saw Dan Humphrey coming out of his girlfriend's dorm.

Dan nodded, awkward. Guarded as ever around Chuck.

"Chuck."

He moved past him, disappearing down the corridor.

Chuck frowned, ever so slightly, and pushed open Blair's door. He relaxed as soon as her familiar scent enveloped him; and he realised just how much he'd been missing it.

She was on the bed, legs curled under her, engrossed in a book. He could tell from the doorway that she was scheming; she had that look on her face.

But she looked up immediately as she sensed his presence, jumping up to run into his arms.

He caught her, kissing her deeply.

Then she pulled back to gaze at him. "I'm sorry, who are you? And have you seen Chuck Bass?" She arched an eyebrow. "Because I haven't. In exactly _four_ days."

He grinned, pulling her to him for another kiss, cupping her face. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Work has been..."

She cut him off, pressing her lips to his again. Snuggling against him, hands curling round his neck.

"I missed you, Bass."

"How about I make it up to you?" he whispered into her neck.

She grinned, and they pulled each other to her bed, kissing passionately all the while. God, he'd missed her.

* * *

It was afterwards, when she was lying on his chest, body nestled over his, idly running her hands through his hair - he secretly loved it when she did that, and she knew it - that he recalled what had bothered him.

"What was Humphrey doing here earlier?" he asked her. He tried to make the question as non-defensive as possible.

She smirked. "Scheming, actually. I think he's improving, under my guidance." She pulled a slight face. "Very gradually."

He stared. "Scheming?"

She rolled her eyes. "Paul Hoffman is considering using someone else's script for his play."

Chuck's frown deepened. "Why do you care if Humphrey's script doesn't make it?"

Oops. That had definitely sounded defensive.

"Because I can't be associated with the writer of the _unwanted_ script!"

Blair looked disgusted.

Oh. Right.

Chuck scowled, slightly irritated with himself.

He wasn't quite sure what his problem was; it wasn't like he had anything to be jealous over. It was Humphrey, after all.

No, actually, it was the scheming.

Blair didn't scheme with other people. Especially not people like Dan Humphrey from Brooklyn.

Blair schemed with _him_.

Blair was looking down at him now, bemused. She'd seen the expression on his face, could feel the slight tension in his body underneath her.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He rolled his eyes. Ok, he knew he was being stupid. It was probably his guilty conscience talking, he realised with a twinge of regret. Because he hadn't been around to help Blair with her scheming, or at least listen to her. He hadn't even heard about the latest development.

He sighed and kissed her.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here."

She grinned. "It's ok. You can keep making it up to me."

* * *

"So...You wanted to see me without Blair?" Dan asked, shifting in his seat. He'd attempted to phone Blair once he'd got the text, initially unsure of what to do, but had got no answer. Until he'd remember that the last thing he had seen was Chuck disappearing into her room. Ew. So he'd gone alone. It wasn't like he needed Blair Waldorf to hold his hand. In fact, it was nice not to have that headache.

Paul Hoffman smiled.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've decided to go with your script."

Dan's eyes lit up. "Really? Wow, that's great! Thank you, man. You won't regret this." He opened his mouth to say more, but Paul cut him off, waving his hand.

"No problem. Like I said, I really like the idea. Tell Blair that I'm inviting you both to a party at mine to celebrate. Very exclusive."

Dan rolled his eyes. He could imagine Blair's reaction to that.

"She'll be over the moon," he assured Paul dryly.

Paul had a gleam in his eye. "Good."

Dan blinked.

Something about the way the guy had said it made him frown, but he brushed it off.

"So, are you seeing her tonight?" Paul pressed.

Who, Blair?

After Dan told her the news, it would be highly likely. If there was one thing Dan had learned about Blair over the past several days, it was that she liked to start her plotting at the earliest possible moment. So that she was always prepared, always one step ahead.

"Probably," he sighed.

Paul smiled again.

Was it just Dan, or was that smile slightly creepy?

"You know, I was worried when I first saw you together. I thought you were seeing each other."

Dan just about managed to hold back the urge to laugh. Oh, Lord.

"Huh, no. Not quite."

Then something the guy had said sunk in. "Wait, you were worried? Why?"

Paul shrugged. "Well, it would make things complicated."

Dan didn't entirely follow. "Right," he said slowly. But he couldn't leave it at that; it wasn't in his nature. His tongue didn't allow that much restraint. "Complicated, as in...?"

Paul just smiled that smile again.

It was definitely a little creepy.

"Well, no, I'm not her boyfriend. I was just her date because her actual boyfriend isn't a member of the society," Dan attempted, careful to emphasize the actual boyfriend part. Paul had to know that, surely?

Paul nodded slowly. "Oh yes. Chuck Bass. I looked him up."

Dan raised an eyebrow. He wasn't aware Chuck Bass needed looking up - but then, he had to remind himself, this wasn't the Upper East Side.

God, now he sounded just like them.

"I have to say," Paul sighed, "If she's keeping someone like that satisfied...she must be _very_ good at something."

Dan was now decidedly uncomfortable. What the hell was he meant to say to that?

"Uh..."

"Although I guess you can see that just by looking at her."

Dan spluttered, now completely thrown off. How the hell had their normal, comfortable conversation turned to _this_?

Paul leaned forwards again, confidential. "It's the purity thing. She's just begging to be violated. Don't you think there's something about her that's just so...wholesome?"

Blair and wholesome didn't quite go together in Dan's mind. He'd seen far too many of her schemes. Girly evil was what he generally associated with her. Hidden, possibly, by an innocent smile - but that was what made her all the more unnerving.

Paul smiled. "And the best part is, she's probably not pure at all underneath that white skin. Those conservative little clothes. That little ass..."

Dan cleared his throat, loudly. No. Just no.

He was not having this conversation about _Blair Waldorf_.

In fact, about any girl.

Paul was creepy. Through and through.

"But, you know, she has got a boyfriend. Chuck Bass." Which was normally enough to strike fear into any guy's mind - God, there he went again. Anyone would think he was a genuine Upper East Sider.

His voice was firm, though. Pressing the point home. Blair had a boyfriend. She was not for the taking. Definitely not for - ew - _violating_.

Ugh, that smile again!

"Sure. Well, as long as she comes to our party."

Dan paused. He had detected the faintest note of a threat in Paul's voice.

"And if she doesn't?" he asked quietly.

Paul sighed. "Well, the only reason she wouldn't come would be because your script hadn't been chosen."

With that, he got to his feet.

"So, I'll see you both at ten tomorrow. I look forward to it."

And he left.

Dan just sat in his seat, frozen. Appalled.


	4. Chapter 4

Dan hurried to Blair's room. The door was shut.

No, surely not? They couldn't still be in there?

Dan came to an abrupt stop as he heard moans. He cringed. Oh, no.

Could this get any more awkward?

But then, he knew, it was probably a good thing that Chuck was there. Chuck could do the whole protective, scary boyfriend thing - because, as Dan knew first hand, Chuck was terrifying when he was angry; even more so if someone was trying to hurt Blair - and hopefully scare Paul off. Because God knew Dan couldn't.

He knocked tentatively.

Seriously, it had been nearly a whole day!

But to his surprise, Blair's voice was very collected when it rang out.

"Who is it?"

"It's Dan. I really need to talk to you."

"The door's not locked."

Oh, God.

Half tempted to shield his eyes, Dan opened the door very gingerly.

Blair was sitting, alone, on the bed, laptop open.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

Only Blair Waldorf could convey that much disdain in a single gesture.

"What is it, Humprehy?" she snapped.

"Er..." Where had the moans been coming from, then?

He froze as heard them again, then realised they were coming from the laptop. And, in fact, now that he thought about it, they weren't really moans. More like howls.

"Are you watching White Fang?" he blurted without thinking. He was just so relieved. He wanted to laugh.

Blair frowned. "I've got to write an assignment on it."

The eyebrow raised again. What did he want?

He was eating up valuable time. Time she didn't have for stuttering Humphreys. She was already behind on her work...thanks to the day's activities. She repressed a smirk at the memory.

Luckily, Dan hadn't noticed.

"Where's Chuck?"

Blair sighed. "You just missed him." Her nose wrinkled. "Is that the reason you came here?"

"No. I need to talk to you. About Paul."

He had spent a few moments agonising over it, but not very long. Because he knew, really, that there was no way he would ever be willing to get his script published by those means, regardless of how good the opportunity was.

"I saw him today."

She sat up instantly, straightening. "You did? Without me? What happened? Did you ruin everything?"

He shook his head at her barrage of questions. "He...told me he'd take the script."

Her eyes lit up in sheer delight.

"That's brilliant!" Then she noticed his expression, and frowned. "That's good news, remember, Humphrey?"

It still amazed him, sometimes, that someone as prickly as Blair could ever be best friends with someone like Serena.

"No, that's not it. I don't think I'm going to give it to him."

Blair just stared at him. Like he was the craziest person she'd ever seen.

"You don't think you're going to give it to him." Each word was enunciated very slowly, like she couldn't comprehend any of it. "Can I ask why, Humphrey?"

Anyone who failed to pick up the note of danger in her voice would have been unbelievably dense.

"He's not a good guy, Blair. I don't want to have anything to do with him. And, neither should you. Definitely you, in fact."

Blair was still staring.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

"Humphrey. What have I spent the last several _weeks-_"

"Blair. He's a creep. He pretended to use my script because he wanted to sleep with you."

Blair made a slight, choking noise of sheer disbelief.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"He as good as told me today."

"Humphrey. I'm a girl, ok? I would have noticed if Paul wanted to sleep with me. I can tell these things, trust me. Besides - Paul's gay!"

Dan stared at her now. "What?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "He's the leader of a drama society. He wears...drainpipes. And silver rings. He's definitely not straight." She looked at him in suspicion now. "Are you sure he wasn't trying to come on to _you_?"

Dan shook his head. "Seriously. He's into you." He repressed a slight shudder as he remembered some of things Paul had said.

Blair's eyes had narrowed. "DId you tell him you wouldn't give him the script?"

"No," Dan sighed. "Not yet. I came to tell you first-"

"Thank God."

Dan's eyes widened.

"Uh, Blair. I'm not giving it to him."

"Why?"

"I just told you!" He was horrified.

She made a noise of exasperation. "Ok, because of some stupid little theory that a _gay_ guy _may_ want to sleep with me - although, I'm still convinced you're just scared he wants you - you're going to throw away everything we worked for? Your dreams of becoming a director-"

"Writer."

"-Whatever. Of having a script used in a renowned play? Having your name linked to stars? Not to mention," she added, "My plans to conquer NYU. You'd really do that to me? To yourself?"

Dan frowned.

"How would that be any kind of victory, if I knew the only way I got it was because I used some one else?"

Blair gave him that look again. As in, _you're crazy_.

"Humphrey. You need to adjust your view of the world. If you let that detail stop you every time, then it's no wonder you are where you are."

Dan just shook his head. Groaned. Why was he trying to reason with Blair Waldorf?

"Besides," she continued, "Who would you be using?"

Dan looked at her then, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, you?" he reminded her.

She laughed. "Oh, please. How are you using me?" Then, before he could answer, "Look. Even if your weird theory is right, then all we're doing is using him right back."

Dan cocked his head. No, it was no use. He would never get Waldorf logic.

"And how do you figure that?" he sighed.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, it's not like he's actually going to get anything from me. But if the idea gets you your script..."

"Blair! This isn't a game."

She stifled her own groan. "Of course it's not. It's politics."

"So what happens when Paul realises he doesn't get anything out of this?" Dan struggled at last.

"By then, it's too late. He'll have signed the deal to use your script. He can't back out then."

Dan just stared. "And what about your plans?" He made one last effort. "It's not going to make you very popular."

Blair sighed. "First of all - as we've covered several times - it's highly unlikely that this idea of yours is true." She smirked. "But even if it is - if everything goes according to plan, I won't need _Paul Hoffman_ to like me by then."

Dan wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear that particular plan. He should have known, really, that Blair Waldorf would not be happy just being an ally. She had to rule. Everything.

"I think he's dangerous."

Blair scoffed. "Please. You think the Ice Capades are dangerous." Dan's mouth dropped in shock, and she smirked. "You should be careful what you tell Serena, cabbage patch." She tossed her hair. "Now, we're going to give Paul the script-"

"No," Dan insisted. "_We_ are not."

"Ugh, stop being so moral. It's boring. I thought we were past this?" Then, unable to resist, she added, "Mr. Threesome."

Arguing with Blair Waldorf was like banging your head against a brick wall.

"I'm not giving him the script. I don't want anything to do with him."

And with that, Dan walked out.

Blair glared after him. For a moment, she was speechless.

Why couldn't she convince him?

Why was he being so _stupid_?

"Fine," she snapped. "I don't need your script, anyway!" she yelled after him.

Damn. Now what was she supposed to do?


	5. Chapter 5

"Blair."

She glanced up from her phone, from the succession of hot texts she and Chuck had been sending each other, to see Paul Hoffman.

She smiled instantly, though she was apprehensive. Had Humphrey told him yet?

She got up from the bench.

She was going to find out, and she was going to win him over regardless. Blair Waldorf did not go down without a fight.

"Paul! Hi."

She was planning how to phrase her question, but he spoke first.

"Am I seeing you at my party tonight?"

Her eyes widened in delight. A party? She was invited?

That could only mean one thing; Dan hadn't made his move yet.

"I told Dan it started at ten, but you're welcome to come over before."

She'd not only got an invite, but an early one! She was in there, without a doubt.

Then she frowned. Why had Humphrey not told her about this party last night? Idiot.

"The party, right. Well, I'd love to! I'll, uh, make sure to tell Dan?" Just confirming; Dan definitely hadn't withdrawn the script?

Paul smiled. "Sure." He nodded. "I'll see you tonight."

Blair stood there as he left, grinning, plotting in overdrive.

Would she be able to convince Dan to go? Probably not.

He hadn't told Paul, though. Not yet. That was a good sign.

If she could somehow convince him not to, till the party tonight...But then she'd be turning up without him. She could tell Paul he was sick, of course. A bad case of food poisoning?

But, for all she knew, Humphrey could be phoning Paul now. No, that would never do. Her invitation would disappear before her eyes.

She needed leverage.

And then she got an idea.

Perfect.

* * *

Chuck leaned back in his office chair. He was getting a headache again; the dull throb that had become more and more frequent as of late. Especially at work.

The only time it seemed to disappear entirely was when he was with Blair.

And he hadn't seen her for another two days, thanks to the stupid conference he'd been hosting at his hotel. Well, it wasn't stupid. It was the perfect opportunity to get in with more business tycoons. More money. But it had gone on all weekend, and he was relieved they had finally left now.

His texts to Blair - and, more importantly, her replies - had kept him more than amused during the final conference of the morning. He'd only attended because it was his right as owner of the hotel - and because there were drinks afterwards, and there was no better time to approach a business tycoon that after a few glasses of scotch.

It had been successful, but draining. And dull. Unbelievably dull.

If his father could see him now...He brushed away the thought. He knew why he kept getting them, though. December was a week away.

The anniversary.

Chuck shook his head. He needed to talk to Blair; he needed her distraction. He found himself wishing she would walk through the door there and then.

He picked up his phone instead.

She answered before it was even on the second ring.

"Hello?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you whispering? What are you up to, Waldorf?"

"Nothing!"

Damn, that had come out louder than she'd intended. Blair's eyes shot around the room. Silence. No, no one outside seemed to have heard.

"I can't really talk right now, Bass," she hissed into the phone.

"What are you doing?" He was half amused.

"I don't have time to explain. I'm in the middle of a mission- ew!"

Chuck sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Cedric's wearing plaid!"

It took Chuck a second to work out what the hell she was talking about.

Cabbage patch?

"Where are you?" he asked slowly. He had a feeling he already knew.

She finished removing the poor cabbage patch doll's hideous outfit.

"Uh...Humphrey's room. Why?"

Humphrey _again_. "Is he your new best friend, or something?"

Blair paused in the middle of sneaking through Dan's room.

"Well, something like that..."

Her eyes scanned the desk as she carried on with her search.

Where the hell was it?

_If I were a Humphrey, where would I leave a script?_

Chuck stopped then, wondering why he was getting so tetchy.

It was his damned headache.

He sighed.

"Look, I was just ringing to invite you to dinner." An evening with Blair was exactly what he needed. Then everything would suddenly be ok; it always was. "Room service in my suite?"

Her face fell. "I can't, tonight. Paul Hoffman has invited _me_ to an exclusive party."

She couldn't help it; she was excited just telling him.

The Tisch kids.

Without thinking, he snapped, "Let me guess, Humphrey's your date?"

He hadn't meant to sound quite so annoyed.

But Blair had just spotted it.

The script.

Elated, she darted over and grabbed it. Her prize.

She clutched it in her hand in triumph.

Then she remembered Chuck's question.

She gazed down at the white pages, smirking.

"In a manner of speaking."

Well, Humphrey may not be her date, but his script would be.

It was not the answer Chuck had wanted to hear.

"Fine," he snapped. He didn't even know why he was getting so angry. His headache was back, even worse. "Well, have a _great_ time."

And with that, he hung up.


	6. Chapter 6

Blair placed the script safely in her purse, settling it down on her bureau. She had everything she needed.

But as she glanced at her phone, she suddenly felt that unease, that disturbance, again. Everything was not right.

She'd barely even spoken to Chuck during their conversation, and the extent of his bad mood had only hit home after he'd hung up on her and she'd escaped Humphrey's room. She kept thinking back to their exchange, and every time she thought about it, she winced, realising how strained Chuck had sounded. She hadn't even asked him how the conference had gone.

She'd noticed the slight shadows under his eyes the last time she'd seen him. He'd appeared more relaxed with her, but she knew, instinctively, that wouldn't be the case at work.

And she knew the date as well as he did. She knew it wasn't just work that was getting to him.

She suddenly wanted to run over to his hotel and hug him. Press herself against him and wrap her arms around him, till all the hurt, all the tension, left his body.

She took her phone, his number the first one on it, raising it to her ear.

But it just rang.

He didn't pick up.

Eventually, it went through to the answer machine.

"Ok, Bass, I don't know what you're doing that means you can't even answer when _I _phone you..." Her voice softened. "But, I realise I may not have been the best girlfriend lately. And I may need someone to save me from an evening with spoiled drama brats. So I was thinking I could come round after and make it up to you..." she grinned. Then added, gently, "I love you."

* * *

Chuck's eyes roamed over the sheet of paper, flicking through the numbers, but his heart wasn't in it. Not when his mind was elsewhere.

He'd been pointlessly annoyed with Blair, he knew. Needlessly - what? Jealous? Of Humphrey?

He needed to see her.

He needed to get out of work, get away from his office, and be with the one person who made him feel sane.

He needed the reassurance.

And with that, he threw down the balance sheets, and exited the door.

He didn't even realise that he'd left his phone in the office, the flashing light - signaling a missed call and a voice message - unseen.

* * *

Chuck knocked on Blair's door for a second time, though he already knew it was fruitless. Blair would never not hear the door if she was in.

Where the hell was she?

He gave a final knock, out of sheer frustration.

No answer, of course.

He couldn't help wondering, bitterly, if she was in Humphrey's room. Why did that thought annoy him so much?

Damn Humphrey.

Fine.

He decided he was annoyed that she wasn't in when he'd made the effort to come see her - though, in truth, he was just annoyed that he couldn't see her.

She was obviously busy with her Tisch plans.

He cursed the day she'd ever decided to join forces with them.

Resigned, irritated, he turned on his heel. There was no point hanging around in NYU if Blair wasn't there.

* * *

Dan stared at his naked cabbage patch doll in disbelief, then back at the note on his desk.

_Your script is being held hostage, don't bother looking for it._

_You'll get it back tomorrow._

_Maybe._

_PS Flannel? Really? Even Cedric doesn't deserve that._

He was going to kill Blair Waldorf.

* * *

Chuck snarled in disbelief as he saw Humphrey coming along the corridor. There was no doubt where he could be going; Blair's was the only room at this end.

"Looking for someone?" he spat before he could help it.

Humphrey stopped in his tracks; he hadn't even noticed Chuck, he'd been so focused on his destination.

"You're out of luck," Chuck snapped. "She's not there."

And before Dan could respond to ask where she _was_ then, Chuck had shoved past him and stalked off.

Dan stood there for a second, gaping in indignation. He was the one who was meant to be angry; he was the one with the stolen script!

What the hell was Chuck's problem?

And where the hell was Blair?


	7. Chapter 7

Chuck sat in his armchair, eyes on the television. He had no idea what was on the screen.

He would never admit it, but he was sulking.

He did not want to spend the evening alone in his suite.

Then the door opened, and despite himself - despite all his better intentions - Chuck felt his heart raise. Then he cursed himself. Stupid. What was he, some kind of pathetic girl?

It was Nate, of course.

Who else?

Nate.

Chuck deliberately didn't look up, still scowling.

Of course it was Nate.

What did he care, anyway?

"Hey, man." Nate came and flopped down on the sofa next to him, oblivious to his scowl. "Blair not here?"

Oh, well done Nate. Genius.

The guy was a _genius_.

"Your powers of observation never fail to astound me, Nathaniel," Chuck spat out.

There was a pause.

Nate looked a little taken aback.

"Uh... Chuck?"

Chuck sighed.

He shouldn't take it out on his best friend, he knew.

"According to Blair, Humphrey is better company than her boyfriend," he snapped at last.

Ok, he knew he wasn't being fair. He knew why the whole Tisch thing was so important to her; he knew that was all it was.

But still.

He needed her.

He was loath to admit it, but it was painfully true.

He was suffering Blair withdrawal symptoms.

Nate snorted.

Chuck stared at him in outrage. Was his best friend _laughing_ at him?

"I'm sorry, man," Nate attempted, but he was still grinning. "You're so whipped."

In what universe was it ever right for Nate to be saying those words to Chuck? Chuck Bass?

"I am not," he responded automatically, realising at the same time how pathetic that retort was.

He cursed silently.

Turned back to the television, ignoring Nate with intent.

Chuck Bass was not whipped.

He just missed Blair.

* * *

"Chuck. Chuck?"

Chuck realised Nate was calling him, and dragged his eyes way from the book he'd spent the past hour attempting to read.

_The Outsider. _He'd always empathised with the main character - outcast from society for breaking taboo, doing something outrageous. Ok, killing someone was a bit extreme. But the idea was there.

He'd hoped a bit of existentialism would distract him - but he'd forgotten that the main character was continually plagued by headaches. Headaches that hit a bit too close to home. He'd also forgotten the main character's love scene on the beach, and the description of the kissing, the waves and the sun on the girls skin...reminded him far too much of days with a certain brunette over the summer. The sex, the sand...Blair's laugh...

Scowling, he tossed the book down.

"Chuck," Nate called again, exasperated. "Man, your phone?"

Chuck sat up then, finally recognising his familiar ring tone. He hadn't actually checked his cell all day.

He frowned when he saw the display screen - unknown number.

He was not in the mood for courtesy calls.

He picked it up, ready to snap something down the line. "Hello?"

"Chuuuck!"

He straightened. He knew that voice, slurred though it was.

"Blair?"

"Hellooo. Chuck."

She was drunk.

Blair was drunk.

"Blair, are you ok?" he asked slowly, trying to assess just how bad she was.

"I'm great! Great!"

She was wasted.

Chuck knew for a fact that Blair had not got _that _drunk since she was fifteen, the first time he and Serena and dared her to down the scotch he'd stolen. He'd found it hilarious at the time.

Blair had learnt her lesson, though; she'd never let herself get to that stage again.

She hated being that out of control. Not to mention that ill the next morning.

Chuck knew Blair could handle her drink; he knew she was normally careful, controlled. Even - _then_, after Yale and Baizen - she hadn't gone that far. That he'd seen, anyway.

"Blair. How much have you had?"

Nate was listening now, in surprise.

"Chuck! Chuck, I miss you."

"Blair. How much have you had to drink?"

"I'm at a party, Chuck!"

He sighed. That was it.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at a party!"

"Waldorf-"

But the line had just gone dead.

Growling, Chuck hit redial. The number had been withheld.

He tried Blair's cell instead.

No answer.

"What's going on?" Nate asked from the sofa. "Blair's drunk?"

"To put it mildly."

Chuck tried her phone again, but there was still no response.

He knew that Blair would not want to be this drunk. Especially not if she was at the Tisch party.

He would have to go pick her up.

And he had no idea where the party even was.

How the hell had this happened in the first place?

Suddenly, he scowled.

Humphrey.

He turned to Nate.

"I need Humphrey's number," he snapped.

Nate blinked. "Dan?"

"He's with Blair!"

Not wanting to incur any more of this sudden wrath - what was Chuck's problem lately, anyway? - Nate relayed the number.

Dan took a while to pick up.

Idiot. Moron. Absolute -

"Hello?"

"Humphrey. Where's Blair?"

It took Dan a second to work out the owner of the irate voice on the other end.

"Chuck?"

"Yes, Humpty dumpty, well done. Where is my girlfriend? And how the hell did you let her get to this stage? Maybe you haven't grasped the requirements of accompanying a girl, but I'd say looking after her is pretty _basic_-"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Just tell me where you are!"

Dan frowned.

He did not deserve this level of anger, this abuse - he hadn't done _anything_ to Chuck.

In fact, he'd pretty much had it with Blair Waldorf and her boyfriend.

This was the last time he got involved with either of them again. It had been a serious mistake from start to finish. Not that he'd been given a choice in the first place.

He hadn't been able to find Blair - or, more importantly, his script - anywhere.

He suspected she had deliberately turned her phone off.

She must have known he'd be looking for her.

Enough was enough.

"Not that I need to tell you this, but I'm in my room. Trying to do an assignment. So I really don't have time-"

Humphrey had left her_ alone_ at the party?

"Where's Blair?" Chuck demanded, furious beyond belief.

"I have no idea. I was actually hoping you could tell me. And maybe give me back my-"

"What do you mean, no idea? Where's the party?"

Dan was lost now.

"What party?"

Chuck stifled a groan. Why, why did he have to waste so much time on cretins? Blair needed him _now_.

"The Tisch party. The one you're both meant to be at?"

At last, Dan worked out what he might be referring to.

The party.

His mind worked furiously.

Blair must have found out about it - and of course she'd have gone.

Alone, he realised.

With Paul Hoffman.

Much as he hated Blair at the moment, pain in the ass though she was - if that were the case, he didn't want to think about what could happen.

"Paul Hoffman's party?" he asked slowly.

"Presumably," Chuck snapped with impatience. "Why aren't you with her?"

"She's there now?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yes." How could one person be so slow? "And she just rang me, and she is not in a good state. Thanks for taking care of her. So if you could just give me the address to this stupid party so I can go pick her up before she does something she regrets-"

Dan suddenly felt ill. Not in a good state?

"Wait, Chuck." He got to his feet, searching for his jacket. "This may be more serious than that."


	8. Chapter 8

Blair stumbled out of the door, shaking her head to clear the sudden fog. Why was the room spinning?

She'd asked Paul where the bathroom was, though in truth she just needed some air.

What was wrong with her?

She tried, dimly, to remember what she'd had to drink.

Paul had handed her a glass of champagne when she'd come in.

_Perrier-Jouët_, she'd remembered noting with remorse. Still, at least it hadn't been beer in a plastic cup.

Baby steps.

Wait, was that all she'd had? It couldn't be.

One glass? She couldn't be drunk. She couldn't - she suddenly realised she was on the floor. She must have fallen over, but it didn't really hurt.

What was wrong with her?

She staggered to her feet, vaguely aware that there were people in the room and they must have seen her fall over. In fact, she was pretty sure one of them was laughing.

No, no one laughed at Blair Waldorf.

She ended up in another room, an empty one this time.

She suddenly wanted to laugh at the whole situation. How hilarious! She was drunk. And she'd just fallen over. And she'd only had one glass of champagne! Not even nice champagne.

In fact, she should tell Chuck. He'd understand. He knew she needed Dom. Where was Chuck?

Oh, yeah. He was at home. She should ring him! Where was her phone? Where was her bag, in fact?

No matter.

There was a house phone on the table, she'd use that. Luckily she knew Chuck's number off by heart.

"Hello? Chuck? Chuck, I need some Dom. They only had Perrier-Jouet, and you know that's just not my favourite. Chuck-"

"Er, I'm sorry, miss. I think you've got the wrong number."

What? That wasn't Chuck.

"You're not Chuck," Blair informed the person. She pouted. "I'm hanging up on you now. I want to speak to Chuck."

And with that, she slammed the phone down. It made a satisfying click, and she giggled.

Then she frowned. She wanted to talk to _Chuck._

So she picked up the receiver and tried again.

But it just kept _ringing._

"Ring, riiiing," she sang along. Where was Chuck?

Then finally, finally, she heard his voice.

"Chuck!" she cried in delight. Finally!

"Blair?"

"Hellooo," she grinned. "Chuck!"

He was asking if she was ok now. Of course she was! She was at a Tisch party!

"I'm great. Great!"

She couldn't quite make out what he was saying any more, but she was just so pleased to hear his voice.

"Chuck! Chuck, I miss you."

He was asking something else, but she was trying to remember why she'd called him. She'd had a reason, she was sure.

"I'm at a party, Chuck," she informed him.

"Where are you?"

What? Hadn't she just told him that? Was her poor boyfriend going deaf?

"I'm at a party," she stressed.

Then she jumped up in surprise when an arm reached over her and - hung up?

She turned, confused, to see Paul Hoffman.

"Paul? I was talking to Chuck!"

But the line was dead.

"Hello? Hellooo? Chuck?"

Paul pulled the phone out of her hand and replaced it on the hook.

"I wanted to talk to Chuck," Blair protested.

"Blair." Paul smiled. "What are you doing in here?"

"I..." Hmm, what was she doing in here?

"You're not meant to be here."

Her eyes widened. Oops. She couldn't forget her goal; she had to get Paul on her side. She couldn't displease him.

"I'm really, really sorry," she promised, grabbing his arm and staring up into his eyes to confirm her sincerity. "Really sorry."

Paul had caught her arms and was leading her back outside. "It's ok. Just come back into the party."

She stumbled, though, and only his arms stopped her from falling.

Oh, and there were all those people out here. The ones who had seen her fall earlier. Were they still laughing at her?

"Paul," she whispered. She tugged on his jacket, pulling his head closer to whisper in his ear. Damn, he was annoyingly tall. "Paul, I don't want to be with_ them_. They're laughing at me."

Paul took a firm hold of her waist. He bent his head over her, murmuring back in her ear, "That's ok." He was propelling her forwards. "Come on, I'll take you into a room away from everyone else."

She leant against him gratefully, allowing him to lead her away. "Thanks, Paul. That's so nice of you."


	9. Chapter 9

Dan knocked on the door to Paul's apartment. He could hear voices on the other side; the party was still going on, obviously.

At last, the door opened, and Dan was faced with a guy he didn't recognise.

"Hello?"

The guy was looking at him blankly.

"Uh, hi. I'm Dan Humphrey. I'm looking for a friend..."

The guy was already shutting the door in his face. "Sorry, this is a private party."

"No, look, I really need to get in there."

Dan tried to hold the door open, in vain. The guy wasn't interested.

"Paul Hoffman invited me!" he attempted. "I'm writing the script for his next play?"

The guy stopped, rolling his eyes, and opened the door again. Looked at him critically.

"You?"

Dan frowned. How was he back to being judged, yet _again_? He'd almost forgotten what it felt like. He'd actually thought he'd escaped all that, Chuck and Blair being the exception.

"Yeah, me. I wrote the Lady Gaga thing for the cabaret?"

At that, the guy's face relaxed. "That was you? That was impressive."

"Thanks," Dan grinned. Wait, he had to get to Blair. Focus. "Can I come in now?"

The guy moved aside, shrugging. "Sure."

Dan followed him into the room.

It wasn't particularly full.

Dan didn't recognise any of them. Although he hadn't particularly socialised with many of the Tisch kids, anyway.

He scanned the room, searching for Paul or Blair.

No sign of them.

That couldn't be good.

* * *

Blair sat on the bed as the room blurred around her. She couldn't think straight any more, much less concentrate on what Paul was saying.

"Baby, are you ok?"

The voice was distorted, distant._ Baby_?

Suddenly he was with her on the bed, his hands all over her.

He didn't smell good, not like Chuck. His cologne was nasty.

"Baby?"

"Uhhh..."

"Come on, lie down." He was pushing her back on the bed now, and the room tilted alarmingly.

And she suddenly couldn't breathe because he was leaning on her, on top of her.

She tried to find her voice, tried to ask him to get off, but his hands were still on her, holding her down, touching her far too much, far too close, and her thoughts were all jumbled...

"Hey, man! What are you doing?"

Blair had no idea where that voice had come from, or what was going on anymore.

But she wanted the weight off her. She wanted this creep to stop touching her.

And then, suddenly, it eased, and there were raised voices, but she couldn't work out what was being said. And then she saw a flash of flannel. Humphrey?

His face, blurred but just recognisable, swam into view. And it was a surprisingly welcome sight.

"Humphrey," Blair slurred. "Humphrey, I think you were right. I think I owe you an apology. Because you know what? Paul may not be gay."

Dan could only just make out what she was saying, her speech was so jumbled, but he caught the last bit. He sat her up, supporting her.

"It's ok," he chuckled, worried she was going to throw up. She looked very white. Her skirt was hitched up, hair tousled, eyes wide and unfocused.

If Dan had got there a moment later...He repressed a shudder, concentrating on keeping her conscious.

* * *

"Hey, what are you-"

Chuck shoved past the person at the front door, forcing it open, not bothering to give an explanation or even ask to come in.

He made no attempt to search the front room, either - they wouldn't be with other people - but headed straight to where he judged the bedroom was.

He burst in, and all he saw was Blair, clearly out of it, on a bed, and someone holding her. And then he had no control over his actions.

"Get your hands off her!" he snarled, seizing the person's jacket and hauling him off with all his strength, throwing him onto the floor like a rag doll.

It was only when the person gasped, winded, "Chuck - it's me!" and Blair mumbled, "Humphrey?" that Chuck realised it was Dan.

Oops.

Ignoring the injured Humphrey, his gaze landed instead on the guy attempting to sneak out of the room.

"Oh, no you don't," he hissed, and grabbed him by the lapels.

He forced him up against the wall, bringing his face close, eyes blazing.

"If you ever lay one finger on her again-"

"What's going on? Who are you?" They were interrupted by the two guys that had just arrived, alerted by the commotion.

They looked at their leader in alarm, at the clearly dangerous guy that had him pinned against the wall.

"Your worst nightmare," Chuck growled.

And he punched Paul, hard. "That's for the disgusting things you said about my girlfriend."

He punched him again. "That's for giving her a roofie." The two other Tisch kids could only watch, horrified. Chuck punched him a third time. "That's for touching her."

Then, when Paul was bent double in absolute agony, Chuck kneed him in the groin.

"And that's for thinking you would ever have a shot with _Blair Waldorf."_

Chuck tossed him into the floor, disgusted, and turned his attention to Blair.

Dan was helping keep her upright.

Chuck picked her up, easily, wrapping her in his arms.

She was barely with it any more.

Dan helped him get the door, and they swept past the stunned Tisch kids.

"Who the hell do you think you are-?" one of them spluttered, but Chuck and Dan silenced him with a single glare.

"He's Chuck Bass," Dan informed them flatly.

And they left.


	10. Epilogue

**For nygirl26 :) **

**Thanks so much for all your reviews!**

When Blair woke up, her head was pounding and she had no idea where she was.

She opened her eyes, flinching - then relaxed as she breathed in a familiar scent.

She was in Chuck's bed.

But how the hell had she got here?

And _what_ had happened last night?

She struggled, in vain, to remember.

"Chuck?" she called hoarsely. "Chuck?"

Chuck put down the coffee he'd been making and went straight into the bedroom as he heard his girlfriend's voice.

"Blair." He was instantly at her side.

She suddenly felt much calmer.

He sat down next to her, voice gentle, wrapping his hand round hers.

"How are you feeling?" He kept his tone casual, hiding his concern, though he studied her carefully.

She was still a little pale.

After he and Humphrey had put her to bed and Humphrey had left, he'd stayed up. Pretty much the whole night, keeping an eye on her.

"My head hurts," she mumbled.

He handed her a glass of water from the bedside table, followed by two pills.

She frowned, suddenly realising there was what looked like the entire contents of the medicine cabinet on the table.

He followed her gaze.

"What?" he said, defensive. "I wanted to make sure everything was to hand."

No, he had _not_ been panicking. Chuck Bass did not panic.

Ok, if Blair's safety was at risk, he maybe panicked a little.

He helped her swallow the pills, rubbing her back as she winced.

"What happened?" she asked at last.

His eyes never left hers, pursing his lips. "How much do you remember?"

She shook her head. "I went to the party," she said slowly. "I had some awful champagne." She pulled a face. "Definitely not Dom."

Yes, Blair _would_ remember that.

Suddenly, she paled. It was coming back to her now. She remembered. Chuck could tell, from how still she'd gone.

"Oh God," she muttered. "Paul Hoffman... is not gay. Humphrey was...right?" She looked at Chuck in horror.

He pulled her into his arms, hugging her, kissing the top of her head.

"Nothing happened," he promised, squeezing her. "Nothing."

"And Paul-"

"Is never going near you again. Unless he wants to die."

Blair buried her face in Chuck's chest. For a long time, she huddled in his arms as he soothed her. She was safe.

* * *

Eventually, Blair sat up, looking at him as she remembered something else.

"Was Humphrey there?"

Chuck paused.

"Maybe."

"Did he...save me?" She cringed at the idea.

Chuck glowered.

"Well," he snapped, "If he hadn't left you by yourself in the first place, none of this would have happened. You need to choose better friends. That's the last time I'm letting him accompany you to anything."

He glared at her, and Blair raised an eyebrow back.

"Chuck?" she asked gently, sweetly, hiding a smirk now. "Are you...jealous?" She couldn't quite believe it, but his immediate scowl confirmed it.

"Of Humphrey?" he spat. "Don't be ridiculous."

She shrugged.

"Fine. Well, I better get dressed. I need to see him and thank him."

So saying, she stood up.

But Chuck caught her waist, throwing her off balance and tugging her back down to him.

"You haven't thanked _me_ yet."

She wriggled out if his embrace. "I'd rather thank Dan."

She stopped, then. Ew. Ok, that had sounded slightly ridiculous. She'd gone too far.

Chuck looked at her.

He knew it too.

He smirked.

She pulled a face back. "Fine. At the very least, I need to return his script."

Ha.

But Chuck's mouth twitched.

"Actually, Humphrey left a note for you. He found your purse."

He handed her the folded sheet of paper.

Blair knew, even before she'd read it, that her purse would now be empty.

The note read:

_Consider us even._

She glared. She may no longer have needed the script - but Dan had _stolen_ it. He'd gone through her purse!

"Still want to thank him?" Chuck asked smugly.

Blair scowled at him.

Then she smiled, devious.

Wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Actually," she murmured, "I kind of respect Humphrey even more now."

Teasing.

Chuck's grip tightened.

"He dressed Cedric in flannel," he countered, kissing her.

Blair laughed.

"I can't believe you were jealous....Of Dan Humphrey."

"I was not _jealous_. But from now on, Waldorf, I'm always your date."

"Whatever you say, Bass."

And, grinning, she kissed him back.


End file.
